


A Picture-A Thousand Questions

by mst88



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe, Ancestors, Break Up, Brother-Sister Relationships, Cheating, Family Secrets, Gen, Twins, World War II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:48:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25291165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mst88/pseuds/mst88
Summary: A cheating boyfriend sends her home. A brother's find has them questioning their family history.
Relationships: Boris Feulner/Reader, Marco Bott/Reader
Comments: 5
Kudos: 4
Collections: Attack on Titan/Shingeki no Kyojin





	A Picture-A Thousand Questions

**Author's Note:**

> This one-shot was inspired by the incredible World War II Shingeki no Kyojin|Attack on Titan fic by DaftBunni Bluebirds, which is now titled The Darling Buds of May, a rework of the original.
> 
> It is with her permission that I am posting it.

I tossed my cell phone onto the empty seat beside me after shutting it off, tired of the pinging of incoming text messages. Pressing the call button on the steering wheel I spoke into the empty car. It rang twice before a male voice answered, causing me to smile.

“Well if it isn’t my little sister, how are you?” 

Normally the ‘little sister’ remark would have received a reaction from me, not today.

“I’ve had better days Marco, which is why I’m calling. Is it okay if I stay a few days with you?”

“Is everything okay?” He asked. “Is Boris okay?”

“No everything is not okay.” I chewed on my lip not wanting to confess to my brother about Boris. “I’ll tell you when I arrive.”

“Sounds bad.” His tone grew softer and he was silent for a few seconds as if trying to get a handle on what was going on through the phone connection. Being twins it was something that just happened naturally, knowing what the other was feeling. “Actually I’m glad you are coming over, I found something in the attic I need you to see.”

“Oh, what is it?” Glad for the topic change.

“How far are you away?”

My eyes turned to check the clock. “Another hour and a half.”

“Good,” I could almost picture his smile. “Oh and sis, I’m glad you’re coming out. I’ve missed you.”

“You to Marco.” I ended the call, pushing on the gas a little harder.

-*-

Making the turn onto the long driveway that lead to the farmhouse, I turned my phone back on and almost instantly it pinged with a text from Boris. I couldn’t help the growl that rattled in my chest, I did not want to deal with him, at least not yet. I just wanted him to leave me alone.

Although I couldn’t help wondering what he wanted to say to me. If it was an apology then it wasn’t happening. Not ever. Because in my mind we were done and over with. His betrayal broke my heart and my trust.

Driving down the fence-lined driveway another text popped up as I parked the car around the back of the house.

**Boris: I’m worried, where are you?**

I narrowed my eyes, feeling my anger build. Not even an apology. I went to turn off the device when another text showed up.

**Boris: I can assume you’re ignoring me because you’re angry. I can understand that. I can also understand if you hate me, I hate me too. Right now I’m missing you and worried about you. At least let me know you aren’t lying in a ditch somewhere.**

“Pfmph.” He could keep worrying because I won’t soon forget what I saw last night. And I was seriously hating him.

-*-

Stepping out of the car I looked up at the white house that had to be a hundred years old. I was so glad to have a safe and familiar place to avoid Boris.

The yard looked newly mowed, no doubt by Marco. My brother loved having a reason to do something outside. This house had been in our family for many years. And it was the only home me and my brother had ever known.

A smile spread across my mouth as I watched Marco step out onto the wrap-around porch. Bounding down the stairs to engulf me in a hug. “It is so good to see you.”

Releasing me he grabbed my bag, tossing the other arm around my shoulders. “Let’s get inside, I have coffee on. By the look of it, you could use some.”

As soon as we entered the kitchen door, my mouth started to water at the smell of coffee.

“Are you hungry? I could whip up something real quick.” He offered, putting my bag in the hallway leading to the front of the house.

I shook my head, my stomach was to tied up in knots for food. “Just coffee will do,” I answered taking a seat.

Pouring me a cup, Marco sat taking the seat across from me. “Now are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

I took a sip of coffee, savoring it while trying to avoiding the imploring look in his brown eyes.

“It’s pretty nasty,” I warned keeping the mug hovering at my mouth.

“As you know Jean is my best friend or have you forgotten, I’m sure I’ve heard worse from him.”

“True,” I nodded placing my cup down. “Well, Boris’s work had its annual party last night . . . long story short I caught him with another woman.”

The long story was that after an hour of catching glimpses of Boris in the conference room where the party was at, I couldn’t find him. Thinking he went to the bathroom and not finding him there - after waiting ten minutes - I started looking around the offices. I finally found him in an empty corner office pounding some blond from behind against the plate glass window.

Marco grimaced. “Yikes.”

“As soon as I saw what was going on I left.” I continued. “Took a cab home, packed a bag, and then headed to a hotel to pull myself together.”

“So you haven’t talked about it?”

“He’s been texting and calling, he won’t have anything but the tired old excuses that mean nothing.”

Marco stared at me. “Are you sure he wasn’t just flirting or -”

“Oh, it wasn’t flirting Marco. I caught him literally with his pants down, banging her from behind before finishing in her mouth, only to announce he could go again.” I huffed as I sat back in the chair. “Understand now.”

Even if he is my best friend, twin, and brother it was the most uncomfortable conversation I’ve had with him. “That’s why I’m here and not at my apartment.”

Marco looked down at his coffee as his hand reached for mine, fingers lacing together. “Yeah, no coming back from that.”

My phone buzzed on the tabletop. I didn’t pay it any attention.

“Would that be him?” Marco asked, I just nodded my head.

“He’d cheat again wouldn’t he?” Marco just shrugged. “If it were Jean, would he cheat?”

“Honestly, I really don’t know.” He sighed. “I’d like to think he wouldn’t but if temptation stepped in his path-”

“Would you Marco?” I asked knowing the answer already.

“God no sis, we weren’t brought up like that.” He pulled his hand back across the table, sitting a little straighter. He took a sip of his own coffee before placing the cup on the table. “Ready to go up to the attic with me?”

“Sure,” I answered finishing my coffee and then turning my phone off before sliding it into my back pocket.  


-*-

It had been years since I had been in the attic, Marco, and I would - with grandpa’s permission- climb the creaky stairs ready for our next adventure when we’d stay during the summer. Although it seemed to look the same from back then; cobwebs, the creaking when the wind blew, the damp and musty smell.

“I came up here yesterday to check the roof before winter hits,” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Then I kind of got distracted by memorabilia that fell out of a bunch of boxes that fell over in the very back of the attic under the small window.” I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye, raising an eyebrow waiting for him to finish. He gestured down the small aisle he had created, towards what looked like an antique chest.

There was so much clutter up here that the farther you went, the farther into the family history you went. Neither of us had been farther than our dad’s stuff from back around the time he was born. Then our mother’s after they married.

When we neared the chest I noticed the large handprints in the dust that covered everything. He gestured again towards the chest from where he stood behind me. “Go ahead and open it.”

Crouching down I reached my hands toward the chest then hesitated. “There isn’t anything dead in there, is there?”

He gave me a disbelieving look, before shaking his head. “I wouldn’t do that.”

It was true, Marco was too sweet for something like that.

Slowly I lifted the lid, peering inside. A gasp left my mouth when my eyes fell on the yellow-aged wedding dress before taking in the cracked brown leather bomber jacket. Marco had obviously moved items around while looking through it himself. I took in a few books and magazines from the last great war. There was what looked like a vintage cigar box.

“Did you look in the cigar box?” I asked, carefully picking it up.

“Oh, boy did I.” His uneasy tone had me instantly lifting the lid without hesitation. Needing to see why I suddenly felt disturbed by what the contents could be.

My fingers carefully picked up the black-and-white photos, placing the empty box back in the chest. A number of the photos seemed to be of a group of pilots, a number of men that seemed to surround a single woman dressed similarly to them. A few were of the woman sitting in or standing proudly next to a fighter plane. Flipping the photos over revealed the year as being in the late 1930s, Manston 

“Who do you think she is?” I asked holding up a photo of the young woman, now wearing a dress, standing in front of an older man and woman who had an arm around the other. There was something haunting about the man and the woman in the photos.

“I’m pretty sure that the people in this one,” he tapped the photo. “Are related to us.”

Now that Marco had pointed it out, the older man and Marco had similar features as did the young woman and me. Creepily so. If she were to be given a modern makeover we could be twins.

There were only a few photos left in the stack but I still didn’t see what would cause apprehension in both of us. The young woman wore a blissful expression as she gazed up at the handsome officer that stood at her side. 

My eyes widened as I looked at the man. He was no ordinary officer, his uniform giving that away right off. Anybody would know the nationality of the uniform - a German Nazi. It was also clear that the woman was hopelessly in love.

“What the hell, who is he?” I looked at Marco in confusion before flipping the photo over showing Franch but no year. The reason behind the feeling we were both sharing now evident. Closing the chest none too gently, I perched myself on the edge of it as Marco plopped on the floor at my feet.

I could tell by the look on Marco’s face that this wasn’t the worst of the photos. Closing my eyes I placed the photos we’d already viewed into a stack on my lap then slowly opened my eyes. This picture showed the couple at some type of party. The German officer was standing next to the young woman, as an orchestra played in the background. The slate-grey uniform was adorned with medals so it must have been an important event. Even though the photo was black-and-white I couldn’t help noticing how handsome the man looked. And the epitome of a true Nazi with light-colored hair and eyes.

Another photo seemed to have been taken without the man’s knowledge as he stood next to a sleek black car with flags marking it as an officer’s car. His arms were crossed over his chest as he seemed to be leaning against the car with his ankles crossed. Again he was adored in the uniform, boots a polished black, as was the visor of the cap perched on his head.

Thinking the next photo would be more of the same. I was wrong. Disturbingly wrong. The young woman was propped up against the headboard of an unbed, an almost empty bottle of alcohol dangling from her fingers, cigarette gripped between her lips. She gazed at the camera with a playful, flirty glimmer in her eyes, her hair looking too much like my own, a post-sex mess. A strap from her lingerie hung off her shoulder seductively and that was all she wore.

I brought my hand up to my face covering my eyes although the image could still be seen. “Oh holy hell.” I groaned, looking at Maro between my parted fingers. My twin brother’s face was beet red causing his freckles to stand out more. “You can say that again”

I couldn’t help moving the photo closer to see if there were any evidence of the grey uniform. But the sunlight in the photo washed out a lower corner and the foot of the bed.

“Do I even want to look at this one?” I asked Marco, narrowing my eyes at him. He could have at least given me a warning. 

” Sorry about that,” he apologized as if reading my mind. “The last one is super tame compared and a different guy.”

I didn’t hesitate to look at the very last photo. Marco was correct as this was a different man. Dressed in slacks and a shirt, he sat with the young woman on a hill surrounded by grass and flowers. The man seemed taller than the German, with dark blond hair that hung in his eyes and a smug smirk. I couldn’t help wondering who had taken the picture. This photo brought questions to my mind; were they on a date, where did this man fall into the young woman’s life. Was he the one that took the smut pic. 

They seemed happy.

Like a few other photos, the back was empty of information.

“Do you think she married the Nazi?” He asked before covering his face. “Oh God, he could have been one of those that ran the concentration camps and did all those horrific things.”

I looked at my hands as if they could give me our DNA makeup with red flags of the Nazi party. There was no denying that the young woman was a distant relative, there was no denying that. “It wouldn’t be hard to track our family history to find out if we really wanted to.”

That was the question that hung between us as we stared at each other.


End file.
